warehouse13fandomcom-20200222-history
User blog:ThePhantomDanish/Warehouse 13 story.
=Chapter 1= You know what's always fascinated me? How different explosions look in real life, rather then on TV. It's way more vibrant, chaotic, and, erm, orange, than TV makes it look. It's also never "cool" to just escape the explosion with a dramatic leap. Explosions kill people. THIS explosion, killed people. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's rewind. My name is Alexis Fossett, but just call me Alex. I was actually born in France. My mother thought It'd be a good idea to hook up with some of the locals in Paris, so I'm blessed with a French father, who I never even had the displeasure of meeting, and an American mother who has a taste for "Escargot". I'd never touch the stuff had I not lived in France for the first 10 years of my life. Well, I was blessed. The hand that deals blessings, also deals tradgedies. And that's a truth I know all too well. My mother died in inexplicable fashion when I was 10. I then left to finish my studies in Seattle living with my uncle, and enrolling at the College. Ever scince my mother died, I had been fascinated with justice. And at the age of 22, I finished my studies, achieving honors in criminology and languages, and applied for the Secret Service in D.C. I was chosen because my favoured escapism when my mother died was learning languages, and I can currently speak around 24 languages. You want me to list them? Okay, English, French, Italian, Portugese, Dutch, German, Russian, Polish, Greek, Turkish, Spanish, Chinese, Japansese, Swahili, Esperanto, Romanian, Afrikaans, Danish, Norwegian, Hungarian, Finnish, Swedish, Arabic and Basque. 28 If you count dead languages. Anyway, that doesn't matter. What does matter is I got into the D.C. secret service because of my apititude for language, and my life couldn't get better. Not that I cared. During my year in the D.C. service, I was generally used for interrogation purposes- I would interrogate foreign prisoners who had been "plotting" or something. But It wasn't until about 7 months into my career, that things really changed. I remember taking a case out in Philly with Agent Warwick. Something about a double suicide by two of the President's personal guard, checking out a venue for a conference, but with a twist. The perps had shown signs of being hung. But there were no marks around the deceased's necks, or rope. The cause of death was ayshphixiation, but, did they choke eachother? Seems highly unlikely, given the fact they were on opposite sides of the room. Punctured lungs? We'd have to wait for the autopsy, but there was no blood in the mouth or oesopohgous. The inside of the building was like an art gallery, with paintings, and a large, dome-celing conference hall, with elegant tables spread around the sides of the hall, and a large, 8-person table on top of a raised platform at the far end of the room. I talked to the witness. A meek women, sporting a pink cardigan and floral dress. "Hello M'am, I'm Agent Fossett, this is Agent Warwick, we're from the Secret Service, we're here to ask you some questions.'' '' "Oh. Okay." She was squirming. I'd heard she'd been there when the event transpired. "Do you mind telling us what happened?'" '"It was awful.'"She said."I was just cleaning up the hallway. The Secret service men were so lovely, they offered to help out. I asked them to go move the bins. They went to do it. And suddenly, I heard, screaming. I ran In, and one of them was already dead. Then I saw the other one." She buried her forhead into her hand. "Then I saw the other one. He was choking. His eyes were dilated. The h-he collapsed. And was dead." She began to cry. "Thank you mam. Warwick, stay with her. I'm going to take a look around." He offered her a surly shoulder to cry on, and I took a gander around. There were agents everywhere. Local, from D.C., from places that weren't even involved. I suppose It kind of upsets the President when his guys die with no explaination. I examined the body more closely, and checked his wallet. "Huh. John Razzareti. 43. Poor guy probably has a family." ''I thought to myself. Then, In the corner of my eye, I saw a very small trail of black powder, leading to a trophy cabinet in the corner. I noticed a slight gap between the wall and the cabinet, just big enough to squeeze into. I looked around, checking if anyone could see me. Everyone was distracted. With one sleek movement, I slipped into the opening, finding myself in the bowels of the building. It was dark, but I had a flashlight. Turning it on, I could see that the innards of this building were full of strange old fairground items. Old balls for a coconut shy, air rifles, even horrifiying clown dolls, which must be some kind of sadistic prize of getting the high score on Whack-a-Mole. I carried on looking. Bottles, Plushies, Targets. It sent a chill down my spine, but , It was odd- I was compelled to keep on going to see what I could find. I came to the end of the shelves. Whatever caused this may have come from here, but It was just a load of old junk. I sighed. Then I sat down on an old barrel, and picked up a sinister-looking Jack-in-the-box. But, strangely, the box had a bit of string attached to the back, almost like...a wire? I turned the crank tentativley. Strange music played. Swishing colours flew out of the box. A horrible scream wailed from a nearby doll. I screamed In horror, and In a split second the Jack sprung from the box. Scilence. I'd fallen off the barrel in the confusion. And, oddly enough, the shelve the Jack had been resting on was gone. A room with lighting was there. I wandered in, still feeling tense. There was an old Doll on a destroyed column at the far end of the room. It was a baby doll, the kind that gave you nightmares when you were young, with one eye missing, wearing a blood-red dress. It had jagged teeth, which were almost human-like. I approched it. "Hello, Alexis." The Doll started talking. It had a deep, overbearing voice, that filled my heart with dread. "Hello." I replied, pensivley. "W-what are you?" "Oh, many things. Soothsayer. Spirit. Custodian. Granter of wishes." I flinched. "What is this place?" "It's a resting place. A tomb" "A Tomb for who?" I asked. "My master. And someone has woken him." "Who's your master?" "Someone who needs your help. He has been awoken. He now seeks vengance on those who disturbed him" The doll pointed to the celing. I looked up. A giant painting of a miserable-looking clown bearing down on us. It was like a sinister sistine chapel. "Fate brought you here Alexis. To me. Help me, help us. And I will grant you your greatest wish." "Greatest wish?" I shrugged. "I don't have any wishes." "Not even the power to find out how your mother died?" I stared the Doll down. "You can do that?" "Yes. Yes I can. But. First you must find the person who disturbed my master. Get his life force back. Bring it here. Do you accept?" "I accept." I said, feeling like I had very little choice in the matter. "Good. Now. Begone." The Doll was even more evil-looking now. Suddenly, a huge gale came from nowhere, despite the fact I was indoors. A burning white light filled the rooms, and I blacked out. I had no idea what I'd gotten myself into. I awoke God knows how many hours later to people crowded around me. "Alexis? Alexis?" They said over and over again, till I had the wearwithal to get up and repond. They helped me onto a chair, where I sat, dazed. "What In God's name happened to you Fossett?!" Said Warwick, clearly more concerned about the fact he'd of had to do more paperwork had something happened to me, not my wellbeing. "What? The...Jack in the box...Clown...Doll..." I stumbled through my thoughts, desperatley trying to make sense of what happened in the hole in the wall. "What? What are you talking about man?" He said. "N-nothing." I blathered. I thought lying was a better idea than telling the truth. I didn't want to come across as a loon. "Have a drink of water. You look awful." Warwick walked off. I soon caught up to him. "Warwick, have you got any leads?" I asked. He turned to face me eye to eye. "No. Look, go to the Hotel, I'll cover, you don't look well. Besides, I don't need you hogging the credit." "Hogging the creidt?" I replied. "I never said that" He protested. And It was true. I'd heard it, but, his lips weren't moving. "Y-yeah, sorry." I stuttered. "Freak." He began to walk off. .'' "Hey, who's a freak?" I yelled after him. "I didn't say anything? What Is going on?" "Nothing. I'm heading to the Hotel." I don't often run away, but this was just too weird. I ran off. Why was I hearing his voice when he wasn't speaking? I got outside. It was raining. I got in the car, and left for the Hotel. When I got to the Hotel, I had to sign in. I walked up to the front desk. "Hello, name please?" Said the attendant on duty. "Fossett. Alexis Fossett. "Great, thank you. guy whould come in now, just when I was about to get off work. Fantastic." "What? You were just about to leave? Well, sorry." I said sarcastically. "Sorry Sir?" "N-nothing. Just...n-nothing." She looked at me In confusion and slight embarassment. What was happening?! "That's room 11C, up the stairs and furthest door on the left. Thank you, enjoy your stay." She handed me my keycard. "Thanks" I said, practically snatching the card, and darted off, up to the room. When I got in, I immediatley splashed some cold water onto my face, and decided to take a bath. The room was rather large, and had a lovely marble bath, with a purple curtain, which I drew all the way across, and ran a bath. I dozed off slightly in the bath, thanks to the fact today had been well..interesting, and the hot water. I awoke In darkness. All I could see was a sportlight. Like the kind from Helicopters. And sitting on a familiar looking broken column, the Doll. "I see you're fine after our encounter." It said. "You." I said in shock. "So it wasn't a dream." "No, but this is." I glared at it. "What Is happening to me? I'm...I'm hearing people's voices when they're not speaking. What is going on?" "I decided giving you your gift now might benefit us." "So..I can read people's minds now?" "Kind of. Just don't think that using your power will earn you any points with the man upstairs." It looked at me like it was plotting my demise. "It seems you have a visitor." The white light began to engulf me "Visitor? What? Wait!" I woke up gasping, with a jerk. Puzzled, I let out a quiet, confused "Visitor?...". I got out the bath, and got dressed. I opened the door. There was a girl, with red hair tossing my room, clearly unaware of my prescence. I slowly reached to my belt, and pulled out my gun. "Hands where I can see them." She turned around. "Who the hell are you?" She was an attractive young girl, about a year younger than me. She had curly red hair with a white streak, fair skin and almost cat-like eyes, and was wearing a leather jacket with the sleeves rolled, skinny jeans and boots. "Listen, this isn't what It looks like. I'm with the secret service, and were investigating the whole mess that happened with those two agents." She said. "If you're secret service, where's your badge?" I kept my gun pointed on her. "Yeah, my, um, division doesn;t exactly have badges, so you're just gonna have to take my word fo-" "You're under arrest." I didn't want to hear it. "Or you could do that." She said dryly. I pulled out my handcuffs, placing her wrist in one cuff. She was wearing an odd purple latex glove. I attached the other cuff to the end of my bed. "Who are you?" I said, pacing back and forth, staring her down. "Pest control?" She said, clearly finding me more amusing than intimidating. "You know, I find It funny that you're rifling through a hotel room I rented out. I don't own half this stuff. What are you, a theif?" "I told you, I'm with the Government." She stressed. "Yeah, I'm gonna need proof. Till then, you're in my custody." I smirked, as I went through her bag. She rolled her eyes. I pulled out a strange looking gun. "What are you, a Trekky?" "Yeah, I'm on my way to a convention. I'm Sulu." She snarled. "You looked more like Spock to me." Now I was the one finding this amusing. The next object was gum. What's this?" I asked. "It's gum. You know. Gum?" "I know, but peppermint? What is wrong with you?" She rolled her eyes again. I swear, this girl probably got eye strain she did it so much. Suddenly, I heard a tinny, rasping, ringing sound. I picked out a strange, steam-punky black-box which was making the noise. "What on Earth is this?" I said, holding it up. She reached out exhuberantly "Give that to me!" I opened it up, and there was a small, round black-and-white screen with the image of an elderly man, who had a scruffy beard, large caterpillar-eyebrows, and thin-framed glasses. "That's new!" I said, grinning. "So are you." Said the man on the screen. =Chapter 2= "Um. Hello?" I said to the screen. This wasn't weird at all. "Hello Alexis."Said the man. "How do you know my name?" I replied in suprise. "I was actually hoping to speak to Claudia." He said impatiently. "Claudia? Is she the girl who broke into my hotel room?" "Yes. Put her on please." "No, I'm not taking orders from thieves." I said sternly. "Awh, dude, c'mon." She said in duress. "We're not thieves, were with the Government. We locate threats." They were very insistent on this. "Well, I found her poking around In my sock drawer, and unless my thermal socks are nuclear, I think I have the right to be suspicious. She's under my custody unitl I have some proof that she's with the government." The man sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have let her do this by herself. I have some operatives a couple of miles out of town. I'll send them over so they can prove to you were with the Government." "Fine by me." I said. "Oh, one last thing." Said the man scowling. "Which is?" "If you harm one hair on her head, I will make you wish you were never born. You hear me?" "Fair enough." I replied. He scowled, and the screen went blank. I closed the device and put it back in her bag. "Sooo Claudia. Can I fix you a drink?" I asked. "You're funny." She said "Look, these cuffs are really hurting my arm. Can you just let me go?" "I don't know. If I do, Is my life at risk?" "No, I won't try anything." I looked her in the eye. All her thoughts were were about what a d-bag I was, and how much her arm hurt. There was no surprise Kung-fu attack lined up, or no mad dash for the door. I kept my gun on her. "Alright. Don't try anything." I walked over to her tentativley, and undid the cuff on her arm. She let out a sign of relief. "Thank you." She said, but not really meaning it. I sat down, and she sat on on opposing me, looking nervous. There was an awkward wait for about 20 minutes where she just looked around, wrining her hands, and I nearly kept dozing off. I struck some eye contact with her. "is going to kill me." I could hear her thinking. I had to admit to myself, unless she was broken, and believed she worked for the Government, then she wasn't lying. "Okay, I cave." I said, breaking the scilence. "Huh?" "Assuming you're legit, and you do work for the Government, why are you investigating me? Do you think I killed those men" I stared her down. "Okay, we entertained the possibility." She said begrudgingly. I scowled at her. "Until" She continued "Until, we asked around and heard you vanished for 5 hours, then was found lying on the middle of the floor in the next room over." "Yeah, I have no idea how that happened." "This is going to sound weird, but have you come into contact with any...strange or old timey objects lately?" I felt astonished. "Y-yes, I have." "Where?" "At the crime scene. There was a secret passageway that led to this hallway, It was full of dusty old carnival objects. Dolls, balls, barrels. Everything was out of place and old." She turned her head away. "I smell artifact." She mumbled. "Huh?" I said, not hearing her clearly. "Nothing. Look, we need to get to that passageway. I think something there affected you." She got up, grabbed her back and headed for the door. "Woah, woah, woah." I said. "I said assuming. As far as I know, you could still be a criminal." "Awh, c'mon, what do I have to do to prove it to you?" She groaned. "We need to wait for proof that you're with the government, okay?" She furred her brow. "Urgh. Fine." She then sat down. It was a good half hour before there was a knock at the door. Claudia had dozed off, so I didn't have any trouble with her. I answered the door. In the hallway was a tall, stocky man, with short hair and a strong chin, and a woman with large eyes, long hair and flared nostrils. "Hi, I'm Myka, and this is my partner Pete, were with the secret service." They showed me their badges. "We're here for Claudia." "I thought your division didn't carry badges?" I asked. "No, we do, just, she doesn't because she's not a real...agent." "Then what?" "Just, let me get her out of your hair." "Yeah." Said the guy "You know we don't like our people being held at gunpoint." He said, sizing me up. "Well, I don't like people going through my things and accusing me of murder, so, touche." Myka kneeled down next to the bed and started gently slapping Claudia's face to wake her up. "Claud?" She started to come around. "Ergh. What? Did I fall asleep?" "You did." I said. "You actually fell off the bed and I had to put you back on it. You're a pretty heavy sleeper." "Oh, so your all chummy then?" Said Pete, who clearly didn't appreciate my adhearence to protocal. "Yeah, we're going to the next Star Trek convention together." I pointed at her bag. "She's got the gear for It." He scowled again. "Hey, listen pal, what makes you think I can't kick your ass?" I pursed my lips sardonically "Well, I'm holding a gun, and unless you really are Captain America, or you're just really into bravado, I'd say you're wasting your time." Myka intervened. "Pete, lay off, Claudia is fine, and this isn't helping our investigation." He furrowed his brow. "Fine." Claudia cam over "Hey Myka, I think this guy knows something about the situation." "Really?" She replied, turning to me "What do you know?" I scrunched up my face. "This is going to sound crazy." Claudia smiled "Dude, we deal with crazy." I sighed. "Fine. When I was checking out the crime scene, there was a...trail. A ghostly trail. I followed it to an opening in the wall near some sort of cabinet. I went in by myself, and there was a really creepy passageway. It had old shelves full of carnival attractions. Y'know, like games, prizes-" "Elephants" Said Pete, interupting. "No. No Elephants." I replied. "Anyway, I got to the end of the passageway and opened some kind of...door. I went through the door, and there was a really creepy Doll. It started talking to me, and-" I stopped talking. These guys might deal with weird, they might be the Mythbusters for all I know, but no way they'd believe I could read minds. "And? What did It say?" Myka replied. "Oh, It asked me to help It's master. I have no idea what that means though." "Did you agree?" Said Claudia. "Yeah. I felt like my brains would've been scrambled had I refused." I joked. "Wait, wait, wait. Creepy talking Dolls?" Said Pete. "Is it too late to back out? Dolls really scare me." "Look, we need to go back to that hall, find that passageway and find the artifact." Myka said objectivley. "Artifact? What's and artifact? Like Indiana Jones. Cause I gotta tell you, you guys aren't dressed to go grave robbing." I had to admit, I was a little freaked. "Love that film." Pete said, grinning. "We think you've been affected by an artifact Alexis." Said Myka. "But we can't-" "But you can't tell me what an artifact is because it's compromising your entire division If you do." "Um, yes. Wow, you read my mind." She said. I laughed nervously. "Shall we go then?" And with that, we set off to go and find that damned passageway again. Nightfall had come, and the gentle breeze was rolling over the rooftops. I paused for a second. "Hang on." I said "The hall is closed now. We can't get in." "Yeah, we can." Said Pete. "Just, not legally."" Claudia retorted. "Right. So you are criminals then?" I snarked. "We, bend the rules from time to time." Myka quipped. "Lovely." I said "After you." And with that, we carried on. We could soon see the hall. It looked impressive at night, with the marble glimmering in the moonlight. However, it was being guarded after the tragic events in the past. "How do we get in?" I asked, feeling like we'd bitten off more than we could chew. "We need a distraction." Said Claudia. "Then, I've got just the thing." "A distraction...wait here, I have an idea." And just like that, I found myself approching the building. I didn't actually have a plan. Following my gut, my walk turned to a jog, which turned to a run, which turned to a frantic sprint. I then started shouting in Italian "La fine è vicina! Siamo tutti andando a morire!" There were 4 guards, and they looked at me in confusion. One approched me. "Sir. Sir! Do you speak English?" One asked. "Presto! Evacuare il pianeta! Sei condannato! Sei con è condannata! I tuoi genitori sono condannati! Siamo tutti condannati!" I was screaming about the end of the world. Till a guard grabbed me and tried to calm me down. "We need a translator over here!" He called. "Can you understand me Sir?" "Non ho idea di quello che stai dicendo. Appena fuori di qui idioti!" I replied. By now, all the guards were engrossed in calming me down. Then, out of nowhere, Myka started screaming Italian at them, seperating them into two groups of two. "È marito idiota di mio! Si sta sottolineando tutti fuori!" She screamed. "What the hell is going on?" Barked the guard. Then, out of nowhere, a sphere rolled inbetween the two groups, and let out and almighty blast of electricity, knocking out all out the guards. "Oh my God, are they dead?" I said in suprise. Claudia approached me "Nope, just taking a nap." she smirked. I apporached Myka "You speak good Italian." I smiled. "Grazie." She said, smiling back. "Now how do we get in without breaking a window?" Asked Pete. "Using this!" Said Claudia excitedly. She pulled out a long funnel-shaped peice of material. "A straw?" I said. "Nope. I swiped this from Artie's bag." "Who's Artie?" "Eyebrow guy." Replied Pete. "Ahhh." I said. "But what does that do?" Quipped Pete. "Watch and learn ladies." Said Claudia, approaching the door. She blew into the thin end of the funnel, and aimed the thick end at the glass in the door. Astonishingly, the air dissolved the glass, making an entrance way. "W-what was that?" I said astonished. "I don;t know it's name." She said. "Shall we?" We went into the hall. "So whereabouts is this passageway?" Asked Myka. I pointed to the cabinet."Over there." We approached the cabinet, and Myka took a look. "There's nothing here." She said. "What?" I rushed over. "I-It was right here. Right in that corner." "There's nothing there." She said. "Right, well, the Doll said that someone distrubed his master, so maybe someone closed it up?" I retorted. "You think there's a bad guy here?" Asked Pete "It's in the realm of possibilty. I mean, with all the weird stuff that happened back there, maybe they harnassed his power and are using it to take people out?" "We've seen stranger." Said Claudia, shrugging and furring her brow. =Chapter 3= Myka was pacing up and down, back and forth, absolved in her thoughts, like some kind of idea-divulging penudulum. Claudia was making a call on that weird black box, and Pete...well, he was sizing up some Tulips in oneof the paintings dotted around the wall. Someone had clearly picked up the other end of the box's line. "Hey Artie." Claudia beamed. "Claudia! Are you alright, did that guy hurt you?" He sounded more than a little frazzled. "I'm fine, don't make your blood pressure any higher than It already is Gramps." "Is he your dad?" I quizzed. She looked at me in disgust and returned to her call. I shrugged. I had to admit, I liked Claudia. It's weird how much chemistry you can have with someone you had in your custody only an hour earliar. "Anyway, we need you to pull everything on Dolls, clowns, and carnivals you can." "Hmmm." He sounded puzzled. "We don't have too many of those types of artifacts in the Warehouse." "Warehouse...?" I thought to myself. "Am I working with IKEA clerks?" Myka butted into the call "Well, that's not very helpful. Do you have any idea what It could be?" She was almost giving the guy the 3rd degree. "Well, I ran a search whilst you were nagging." Scolded he "It could be P.T. Barnum's tobacco pipe. It can choke out an entire room of people with one puff." "Wait, a PIPE did this?" I said, utterly embezzled by the very thought an inaminate object could be responsible. There was an awkward scilence. The girls were staring at the screen. They had nervous smiles. "You brought HIM along?" Said Artie. He wasn't warming up to me. "Look, Artie, we think he knows something." Said Claudia, raising a hand in defense. "Something werid happened to him and-" "Weird?" He moved closer to the screen. "What kind of weird?" I went over to the box. "Well, I found a passageway, went down it, freaky demonic doll started asking me to help his master, i pass out, wake up 5 hours later on the floor. Feels like an episode of Scooby Doo." "And we can't find the passageway, It's gone." Claudia added. "Can you remember anything else?" He was literally staring into my soul. Why couldn't I read his mind? Maybe I had to be near them. "Wait..." I paused. I remembered the giant clown painting in the room. "Y-yeah, the celing had a massive painting of one of those manically depressed hobo clowns." Artie looked as if he'd suddenly realised something. He stared to the side, with a blank, wide eyed expression. Then he whispered. "Emmett Kelly...." Of course, I didn't hear him at the time, and ended up asking him "What?" "N-nothing. I need to do some digging. You four, ask around, and look for a key to the passageway. It's still there, it's just hiding. I'll call back when I have something." We turned away momentarily. "And another thing." He said sternly. We turned back. "Watch. Your. Backs." With that, he turned off the communications. I looked at Claudia. She looked back. I didn't need to read minds to be able to tell she was more than a little spooked. We breathed hard, and an eerie scilence befell the room. During all that, Pete hadn't broken his gaze on the painting. Myka walked over to him. "Pete? What is it?" She asked in a soft voice. "This painting. Got a vibe." He replied. "A vibe?" I asked. "Yeah. I get weird feelings that tell me stuff." I decided that this was much less weird than mind-reading, so just went with it. "So, what's the deal with the paintings?" Claudia asked, striding over. "I don't know." Said Pete, sounding a little frustrated. "Wait. Pete, there's something here. Look at the anthers on the flowers." Said Myka, examining the painting, like some kind of olive-eyed computer. "What about them?" He asked. "Look." She said. "This flower has 5 anthers. This one has 3, this one 1, and this one has 4." "Woah, nice catch." I said. "But what do you think It means?" "I don't know, It could be, a code, a sequence, anything." She said "It could be nothing." I said. "Nope, my vibes don't lie." Said Pete. "Dude's vibes don't lie." Said Claudia, almost instantaneously afterwards. "Alright. Let's take a look around." I said. We poked around every nook and cranny. Not that I claim to know what a "nook" or a "cranny" is, but, anyway. I could feel everyone felt a little tense because of Artie's warning. Wandering around, I noticed the candle holders on the fireplace. There was something about them. There were 4 of them, each with 5 candle slots, 1 large one in the middle, and two on the outside, going down in steps. However, I noticed that not all the candles on every holder had been lit, apart from the one furthest to the left, in which the candles had burnt all the way down to a quarter of their orignal size. "What's so interesting?" Asked Myka. "Just an idea. Does anyone have a light?" I asked, not turning round to look at her, keeping my eyes fixated on the candles. "This should help." Said Claudia, reaching into her bag, and pulling out what looked like a charred stick. "Timo Pitkämö's sparkler. Sets anything alright, just, touch the burnt end to the candles." I touched the charred end to the fuse on the candle, and with a flash, like a real 4th of July sparkler, the first candle was lit. I lit all of the candles on the first candle. Then, on the next, I lit the middle one, and the two highest candles on each side. For the next, I only lit the middle one, and the next, all but the bottom left candle. There was an awkward scilence. For a second, It felt like I'd done nothing. But, we heard a light scraping sound. Claudia slowly approached the cabinet, took a look, and smiled with glee. "Allons-y!" She said enthusiastically. "How did you figure that out?" Said Pete, who found the contraption amusing.. "I don't know, I just found it weird that some of the candles had been lit, and others hadn't." I replied. "That was a really complex key." Said Myka. "Yeah, my vibes are going crazy." Quipped Pete. We wandered into the passageway. Pete had practically forced Claudia to the back to protect her from whatever he thought was in here. A sweet, if patronising sentiment. Anyway, I again found myself surrounded by the horrific Chucky-esque dolls, whack-a-mole machines, and bottles that clinked and clanked so much, it was if they were moving themselves. "Zoinks." Said Claudia, then swallowed hard. We continued on a little way. The clinking stopped. We were now among Toys and prizes that looked older than the building itself. Without a moment's notice, a horrific clackling was heard, and a murderous-clmown face Jack-in-the-boxes sprung out similtainiously. Claudia let out a scream and attached herself to my arm in fright, and the rest of us recoiled in horror. Scilence. We breathed again. "Okay." Said Myka, breathing heavily. "We're okay." There was something about this place. It wouldn't have been particularly scary. Had it not been for the overwhelming sense that you were not welcome here. I felt like a Fox about to be shot by some deranged farmer. But, we pressed on. I didn't remember the hallway being this long. We got to the end eventually. "Right, what now?" Asked Pete. I walked over to the shelf where I'd found the "switch" of sorts-the Jack-in-the-box. But, to my surprise, It wasn't there. "Huhg? Wha-I don't understand?" I said, embezzled. "What?" Said Pete "There was a Jack-in-a-box. It worked like a....like a switch." Myka intervened"And It's not-" But, suddenly, she was cut off by what sounded like a UFO laser. "What the hell is that?!" Pete yelled With that, the white light engulfed us. I blacked out, and awoke in the dark room again. There was the doll. "Again?" I groaned. "Why did you do that?" The doll glared. "Because. Those people aren't out to help me. They're out to help themselves." "Help themselves? Help themselves to what?" The doll stayed scilent. "To WHAT?!" I screamed. Echos of my voice rang around the room. "To being in control of him." The doll replied. "What did you do to them?" I said, glaring at the doll, wanting to beat it within an inch of it's life. "I haven't done anything." The doll said innocentley. "But. The man. The man whole stole my master. He's got them In his sights. Meddling secret service agents? Not a problem for him." I swallowed hard. I was now more paranoid than ever. What If something horrible happened to them, and It was my fault? I couldn't let that happen. Absolved In my thoughts, the light engulfed me. I awoke In my hotel room. It was the next morning. =Chapter 4= My mind was racing. Was that just a really bad dream? I put on my clothes, and could feel an object In my pocket. I lifted it out. It was a sparkler. Yep, wasn't a dream. I raced down the corridor, past the front desk, and through the swivel doors. I bumped into a familiar face. It was Warwick. "Agent Warwick." I said, with fake glee. "What a suprise." "Listen, I need to talk to you about something..." He said. "Now's a really bad time, I have to go, I'm hanging around with a division that i think known something." I said, walking away. "Fossett..." He said after me. I turned round. "Yes?" "There's been another death." He said. I gasped silently. I feared the absolute worst. "Wh-who? Where?" I said, shell shocked. "Some woman down by the river bank. I haven't got an ID yet." "Come on, you've got to know something!" I said frantically, striding up to him, grasping his shoulders. "Look, all I've heard is it was some red-head." "Oh my God." I was exhuberant. I took off as quickly as I could. Warwick called after me. "What's wrong? Did you hook up with someone or something?" I ignored him and kept running. It was a good 20 minute run, slowed by traffic and the amount of people, but i finally got there, red-faced, and strode into the crime scene. A Police officer called after me. "Sir you can't-" I flahsed him my badge without breaking stride. "Secret service." I ran up to the body bad. There were limbs on the floor. Whoever it was they'd been hacked to bits. I breathed in deep and grabbed the zip firmly. With one fluid movement I undid the zip and- "Oh thank God." I let out, almost in a cold sweat. It wasn't Claudia. It wasn't any of them. Of course, the mortician was giving me strange looks by now. I smiled nervously, feeling a little embarassed, but relieved. I looked at the womans face. She was a beautiful young girl. The type that could drive a man to...well, this. She looked cold, but calm. I couldn't even begin to concieve why anyone would want to harm such a beautiful you girl. But, it happens. I turned around, and could see a man with short hair, and a strong chin. They were okay. I darted over to Pete, and shotued his name. "Oh, hey." He said. I had an absolutley stupid expression of glee and relief on my face, and probably looked a little strange, standing there, gawking at him. "You okay?" He asked, raising a brow. "Oh, yeah, sorry!" I replied, snapping out of my trance. "I just kind of feared the worst after what happened last night." "Why would you fear the worst?" He asked, his brow still about halfway up his forehead. I decided to be upfront. "Well, I heard a young redheaded girl was found like...well, you know. I thought that doll might've done you in." "Oh..." He paused and thought a second. "Wait, why would the doll have It in for us?" I sighed. "It sees you as a threat. I don't know why It doesn't feel like that about me. All I know is It thinks you guys are out to dismatle...whatever it is it has going on in that passageway." "Oh great, just what we need, a murderous doll out to get us." Pete retorted. Clearly whatever division he was in, it was one that dealt with this kind of thing more often than not. Hang on- they hadn't ACTUALLY told me what division they were in. "Listen." I said calmly. "I have no idea who you people are. So stop being so enigmatic. What division are you?" "I can't tell you." He replied sternly, and turned to walk away. "Well, how am I supposed to trust you people If I have no idea who you are or what you do?" I yelled after him. He turned round. With a shrug of his shoulders, her replied sardonically "You're not supposed to." I rolled my eyes and went off after him. "Okay, what's our next move?" I said. "Well, Claudia and Myka are checking out the hall, so I thought I'd go get a Pizza." I decided to pretend he'd said something even slightly meaningful. "Right, okay. Look, maybe we should go check that girls apartment. You got an ID and an adress right?" "Yeah." He replied, handing me a drivers licence. "A Miss Emily Walton. She lived down on 4th, apartment 6G of an apartment complex." "Right, let's go take a look." I said, clasping my hand on the licence and walking off. "But. Pizza." Said Pete meekly, but followed anyway. After about a good 15 minutes walking, we arrived at the apartment building, and knocked on the door. A gruff old black woman with sunglasses, a pink apron, and a black walking stick answered. "What? What do you want? If you think I'm selling this land to accomodate your whorehouse you've got another thing coming Mr. Pintel!" She said, jabbing at the air with the stick. "Um, no Ma'am, I'm with the secret service, we're here investigating the death of Miss Walton, apartment 6G. We were hoping you could answer some questions we had about her." I said politley. Pete, on the other hand was making monkey expressions to test if the woman was blind. "Emily's dead? Oh my..." She said in shock. "Oh dear." "I realise this comes as quite a shock. We can come back at a later time If you wish." "No, no, It's quite fine." She looked at Pete, who was still doing expressions. "Any don't think I don't see you boy!" she said, whilst giving him a firm whack with her cane. She turned back to me. "Fire away." She said politley. "Did miss Walton get alot of attraction from men?" I asked. "Oh, you don't know that half of in." She said. "She brought many companions back on cold winter nights. Mostly men. Well, some men." Pete grinned with pleasure. I remained professional. "Was there any person in particular who gave her...too much attention?" I asked. "Not that I can think of. I never really talked to any of them. But...come to think of it, there was one who came a-caterwauling every night for almost a month. Think he liked what he saw." She giggled. "Thank you Ma'am. May we take a look at her apartment?" "By all means." She said with a smile, and let us in. "What was with the questions?" Asked Pete. "I think we've got a stalker murder on our hands." Said I. "What makes you think that?" Pete asked. "I don't know. It's just a feeling." "Like a vibe?" I tilted my head. "Maybe." We got up to the room, with Pete ending up kicking in the door, depsite the fact I had the key. He claimed to just enjoy doing that. It was definately a student's apartment- empty ramen pots, textbooks strewn about like common litter, and posters taking over every inch of the wall. Something caught Pete's attention. "Hey, look at this." He said, walking over to the wall. "She was a Zepplin fan. Isn't that cool?" I stared at him vacantly. "Right, sorry, focus!" He said I picked up a picture "Look at this." It was a picture of Emily with a boy cradling her from behind. "Ah." Said Pete "What?" "A vibe. Big one." "About the picture?" "Yeah. He could be our guy. But why are we assuming the deaths are related?" He asked. "Because If we don't we might..." "We might what?" I'd teared up slightly. "We might miss something. Something vital. Something that could've changed everything, okay?" Pete looked me In the eye, then paused. "...Okay." He said. I nodded and got back to looking around the apartment. "She definately had a boyfriend. Look at all these pictures." "But the Landlady said she brought home alot of people." "Motivation? I think so." After looking around the apartment for a little while, and finding nothing else of note, we headed outside. "Right you get in touch with the girls, I've got an ID and an address for that boy in her pictures." I said, whilst we walked down the stairs. "How'd you get them?" He asked. "Well, she never logged out of her Facebook before..you know." He nodded and took out one of the video boxes. "What the hell is that thing?" I finally thought to ask. "It's called a Farnsworth. You ever do Facetime on an Ipod? It's like that." I nodded, and we went our seperate ways. It took about 20 minutes to reach the boys adress. He lived in a similar block of flats, but, they were somewhat less cushy, and pretty desolate. The landlord also looked like he'd seen some things people really shouldn't see. "What?" He asked gruffly." "Secret service." I said flashing my badge to him. "I need to speak to a Mr. Gregory Lewis." "Well go and find him them." He snarked. "He's probably upstaris obsessing." I raised my brow and checked the apartment listing G Lewis, ''Room 4D. ''